


Hajimete

by 13_InfinitelyCurious_13



Series: Lovely Week of McHanzo [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Day 1, First Fight, First Kiss, First Time, M/M, Made For Each Other, McHanzo Week, Warning: Slightly sexual at some parts, but no sexy times, this time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-19
Updated: 2016-12-19
Packaged: 2018-09-09 17:43:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8905465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/13_InfinitelyCurious_13/pseuds/13_InfinitelyCurious_13
Summary: McHanzo Week- Day 1: First Time!Personal moments with Jesse were always held dear to Hanzo, especially in times like this. He didn't deserve this, not in the slightest after all he had done. Jesse would be better off without him, but, as the Asian man looked back on the past, the key events so similar, yet different, from this one, he couldn't find himself able to stop. He could allow himself to be selfish, this once. The dragons within him demanded it, he yearned for it, and Jesse didn't seem to mind. He would be there as long as McCree wanted him, even if that was only for a short time. Jesse McCree would tell him he needs to stop stressing, kiss away the worry lines on his brow, but the man was asleep, ignorant to the world. If the man was awake, it would not take a moment for him to tell him how wrong he was. Hanzo deserved happiness, and if McCree had to kiss him breathless, speak little nothings to him, or surprise him over and over again until he realized it, he would. Sometimes the archer disappeared into his thoughts and emerged with a new sense of affection and negativeness around him. After these few years, it wasn't a surprise that Jesse found ways to break Hanzo out of those thoughts, hm?





	

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I know this is late. I finally found some free time 2 hours before the first day was done with and I just fucking went with it. I'll try and get into this schedule, but no promises. I can't resist the urge to write all about my precious little babs. ;w; 
> 
> Alternatively titled, "Hanzo Stays Up Late Watching Jesse Sleep and Thinks About Their Past so Far."  
> Alternatively alternatively titled, "Hanzo Deserves Love and Doesn't Realize It."
> 
> Warning:  
> 1) I don't own Overwatch. This is simply a fan work and should not be taken for canon or anything of the sort. Please support the official release.  
> 2) Please do not post his on other websites without my permission. If you wish to, please talk to me about it and I'll see if I am comfortable with it.  
> 3) Hanzo doesn't do it a lot, but sometimes he starts to think he isn't worthy of McCree and gets overly affectionate. It's cute and endearing, but Jesse has to snap him out of it.

_What did I do…?_ A single voice echoed in his mind, tearing through his thoughts. _Watashi wa kore o yurusa rerubekide wanai._ He believed that, intensely. Hanzo Shimada felt that deep within his soul every time he was allowed a precious moment, sacred, focused solely on them, on _Jesse._ He felt it down to his bones, felt it pulse through his veins, felt it in the air he breathed. He should not be allowed- no, _honored_ with the chance to be this close, to feel this much. He said so in a hushed tone, repeating it in a gravelly, quiet sort of whisper into the space between the two of them.

He said it twice for good measure, arms tightening around Jesse where the cowboy lay on the bed, pressed against him and partially on top of him. Thankfully Hanzo wasn’t small in anything but height, so he could handle the weight pressing down upon him. The bed was small, forcing them close, but somehow Hanzo wished only to be closer, to take in the warmth of his lover and nuzzle his face against a warm chest. Sadly, moving would jostle Jesse awake and he didn’t currently wish to ruin this chance.

Steely gray eyes were tired, dark circles beneath his eyes showing this. On the contrary, he couldn’t think of a time in his life where he ever felt more awake. As his gaze searched over the tanned face of his companion, scanning the smoothed creases for what felt like the hundredth time that night, possibly the millionth time in his lifetime, Hanzo could feel his heart beat faster than before. A fully-grown man, yet here this man lay, affected by the cowboy even when he was doing something as simple as _sleeping_.

It would be embarrassing if the archer could find the room to focus on anything other than the hand that rested on his back, limp, yet burning into his skin, searing it with its touch and tingling all the while, the not-so-flattering nor quiet snoring that erupted from his paramour, or the way their legs tangled together like a puzzle.

Jesse had one thrown over the shorter man’s hip, but the other hooked lightly around a pale leg to hold him close, as if Hanzo would try to get away from his reach.

Dragon and cowboy faced each other, soft breaths of air traded in the little space between then. It was getting incredibly warm between them, almost too much so, but, for the life of him, Hanzo couldn’t find the strength to move. The smell of smoke and gunpowder and something purely _Jesse McCree_ ensnared him and kept him there, keeping the man in that warm grasp, staring in a way he never usually allowed himself, and listening to and feeling the loud, almost bothersome snores that reverberated through Jesse’s chest.

For once, Hanzo couldn’t find himself annoyed by it. (Each breath told him he was _alive._ That was more than enough for Hanzo.)

 _Foolish._ Hanzo thought to himself, tracing the curve of Jesse’s jaw with his eyes, fingers twitching to reach out and touch, though he held still. _Restrain yourself._ Those thin, infuriating lips that were pulled open as he breathed in and out, tempting the man forward to press a kiss to them, to wake his sleeping lover with lazy kisses. Hanzo missed the smiles, but found the peaceful look that rested upon the cowboy sufficient.

For now.

He eyed the hair that fell in his eyes, the eyelashes that fell over tanned cheeks, taking in every minute detail with the attentiveness of an artist.

Jesse McCree was not the type of person that many would call beautiful. His rugged, scruffy demeanor was more than enough to attest to that.

His teeth were a little crooked, he had a single dimple as opposed to two, unruly hair he refused to tame, a detestable fashion sense, and a bad habit of smoking cigarillos wherever he went. Bushy eyebrows and all, no, he was definitely not the type that many would call beautiful. He had a wide, proud stance, with an annoyingly flashy personality, and the ability to drive Hanzo up the wall with only a few simple words.

Through all that, through every infuriating little quirk of the man, Hanzo couldn’t help but find himself slipping into the thoughts he was having now. Those that spoke loud and clear, telling him yes, McCree was gorgeous. Devastating to his heart was another way to put it.

Though all these things were true, Hanzo distinctly remember their first fight. The memory flashed in his mind, reminding him of just how much they detested each other in those few moments. McCree had good reason, but Hanzo? Hanzo was cold to everyone, especially the cowboy with a big mouth and too much of an ego hidden within the confines of his hat. At first, their interactions were nothing but terse moments where they were at each other’s throats, until it finally led to them fighting.

_[How this whole thing had started, Hanzo couldn’t recall, but no way was he backing down. There stood the ever-irritating form of the cowboy, eyes narrowed as he glared down at Hanzo with his face flushed in anger and much too close to the Japanese man for him to be comfortable, but that wasn’t exactly at the forefront of Hanzo’s mind._

_His own eyes glared holes into the whiskey color that poured into his own, the few precious inches the guy had on him giving him that edge, but Hanzo’s regal stance and the way he held himself, proud and confident, though tensed to pounce at any moment seemed to make him taller to the viewer. They were alone in the gym, bowing up to each other with the ferocity, tension, and anger rolling off them in strong waves._

_The two didn’t get along. Period. Everyone in Overwatch knew that from the moment Jesse McCree and Hanzo Shimada spoke their first few words to one another._

_Those initial emotions gave rise to tension, which soon escalated into complete disdain for being around each other. Hanzo was not a stupid man. He was aware of Jesse’s friendship with his younger brother and knew that he deserved every ounce of hatred that poured off the cowboy when they got into these situations. After what he did, he deserved much worse._

_Sadly, despite wanting to be able to take it without an issue, they clashed. Jesse would say something, Hanzo would snap back, and that would lead to a whole new round of glares and sizing each other up. Jesse McCree somehow knew which buttons to push and when until Hanzo was baring his teeth and near snarling out his words, the dragons beneath his skin relentless as they fought to be free. Hanzo found a lot of satisfaction to know he brought the same out of the other, pushed him to the edge. _

_Usually, the two were talked down before they got far. Usually, they would walk away with angry looks of contempt and tensed forms, but without bruises to add to the like. Now? Oh, now, no one was around. It was just the two of them, face to face with eyes blazing and infuriated._

_“Look, hijo de puta,” Jesse spit out, metal hand clenching around the fabric of Hanzo’s kyudo-gi tightly and keeping him right in front of him. Hanzo’s nose wrinkled at the disgusting smell of smoke and bourbon that stained his breath. “’m gonna give ya five seconds to get yer ass outta here before I shove my foot so far up yer ass that you’ll be feelin’ a spur for a month.” He added, practically seething. _

_How they had gotten this far into the argument, Hanzo did not know. He was making quick work of a punching bag when Jesse strolled in and one thing led to another before they were right there. Interesting turn of events, but nothing could stop them now that they were away from meddlers._

_Hanzo brought his hand to grip tightly to the cowboy’s wrist, though the metal had no give at all. He hoped he bent his prosthetic’s casing. His gray eyes seemed to flash gold as he stood there, anger prominent and making it hard for him to hold together his composure. “Your threats are more dangerous than yourself, McCree. I would like to see you try.” Hanzo said, highly accented English so much worse as his anger worsened. “Unhand me before I am forced to remove you myself.” He added, the predatory look in his eyes not leaving._

_They both ignored warnings and, instead of loosening, Jesse tightened his hand in the fabric, wrinkling it in his grip. He gave a cocky smile, letting out a snort._

_“Try it.” He hissed, but didn’t have much time to react as Hanzo twisted, bringing both hands to Jesse’s wrist so he could easier flip him right over his shoulder, sending him sprawling to the ground. Jesse let out a small grunt of surprise, not expecting that in the slightest, and ended up releasing the man’s clothing._

_Hanzo clicked his tongue angrily against the roof of his mouth, twisting around to stalk off. As per usual, he wanted to get away from this useless cowboy before things went too wrong._

_Hanzo did not get far._

_A hand shot out, gripping Hanzo’s prosthetic leg around the ankle in an iron grip, yanking him back. Hanzo clenched his jaw, a small, sharp curse leaving his lips. It didn’t take long for him to gather the air back in his lungs where it had left him before he was on Jesse._

_The two idiots were found thirty minutes later beaten and bruised, though Hanzo more proud than ever. He was a martial artist, after all. Hand-to-hand came naturally. The downside? Angela found them, leading to a stupid lecture about fighting from the woman and another one from Winston about getting along._

_It took almost a full month after that before they spoke to each other again and, surprisingly, Jesse apologized, Hanzo followed, and they found themselves… getting along. To everyone’s surprise, but none more than Hanzo. He expected a deep seeded hate, but found nothing but slight companionship and the first sense of friendship he had in a while.]_

Perhaps that was why Hanzo found himself attracted to Jesse. After a long time of being on his lonesome and dealing with people he was supposed to call teammates that did nothing but stay as far away from him as possible, the sudden change in attitude that Jesse had after that month made him rethink… everything once the others began to warm up to him.

Hanzo scoffed softly to himself at the memory, drawing small figures on Jesse’s side absently while he was lost within his thoughts. He had won the fight, but it didn’t help much considering Angela only tore into him harder. Hanzo was not completely at fault for some of their arguments and fights before it mellowed out, but he sure didn’t help the situation by being as calm as he should have been.

Hanzo really didn’t deserve what he had, especially when what he had was Jesse McCree who had every right to hate him and want him dead, but didn’t. This man, who could easily brush the Shimada off, who should want nothing to do with a brother-murdering asshole, was always there and… Hanzo was grateful, though he did not say anything of the sort. Jesse with a larger ego than ever was never a good idea.

Hanzo paused, breathing coming to a halt as Jesse shifted in his spot, eyelids fluttering just barely, though they did not open. He froze, hoping that he didn’t wake the man, but his hope was demolished the second Jesse’s warm brown eyes opened and peered sleepily into an alert gray. He blinked, once, twice, three times, before a smile formed, sleepy yet just as large as always.

“Hey, darlin’. The hell are ya doin’ up? It’s…” Jesse said in a deep, sleep laced voice that warmed Hanzo in just the right way, though the thoughts that sat at the corners of his mind were not nearly appropriate enough for the time being. “Too damn early o’clock.” The man finally said through a yawn, giving up on trying to figure out what time it legitimately was. His jaw hung open, yawn loud and his eyes closing for another moment as he did so. Hanzo didn’t respond for a long moment, guilt tugging at him as he realized that he had woken the man up, though he ignored that in favor of adjusting his position on the bed once more.

“I believe any time before noon is, ‘too damn early,’ for you, McCree.” Hanzo said in a lazy, teasing tone. Without needing to hold in his touches, Hanzo swooped in to press their lips together in a careful kiss that lasted all of a few seconds before morning breath became too much. McCree snorted in reply, rolling his eyes as he leaned back in for another quick kiss.

Hanzo brought a hand to trace the firm curve of Jesse’s jaw, fingers tickling down the expanse of his neck while his other hand touched and drifted, never staying in one place. His touches weren’t inherently sexual, but they sent a shiver down Jesse’s spine regardless of the archer’s intentions in that moment.

Hanzo finally pulled back once more, Jesse following his lips like a hound after a scent, only to be stopped by a finger on his lips, keeping him back just barely. He seemed to forget the previous conversation, disappointment forming in those sleepy eyes. He looked like a giant puppy, nearly pouting as Hanzo stopped him for the third time.

“C’mon, sweet pea, ya can’t jus’ wake me up like that and turn me out right after.” He complained, but was soon caught in the mesmerizing stare that poured into his own. Those dark gray irises stared into his, twinkling with emotion he didn’t often see. Gold flashed, sparking in those beautiful eyes like a lightning storm, bright, dangerous, yet beautiful. What caught him the most was how intensely he stared at Jesse, eyes tracing over his face as if he was trying to commit it to memory. (He was.)

Jesse’s breath caught in his throat and he didn’t speak for a long moment, feeling chilled fingers trace the curves of his cheeks, feeling down to brush faintly over a scarred, hairy chest.

Jesse, caught in that look on his pale face, enjoyed the tingling sensation that fell over his nerves where Hanzo once touched, sending heat racing through him. His heart sped, face heating that little bit more. Even after this long, no way in hell was he used to this man being quite so… affectionate. He opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off when Hanzo did so. “Watashi go anata sūnai shite mo, sore dakede we fujūbundesu.” Hanzo murmured lowly to him, native language all but lost to Jesse’s ears, but the feeling behind it, the way he whispered it, it felt… intimate. Jesse breathed out slowly, sleep-muddled mind still trying to process what all was happening, let alone a language he knew very few words of.

After all this time, yeah. No way in hell was Jesse going to be anything close to being able to handle Hanzo when he was feeling like this, warm, open, calm. It was a beautiful time, one he marveled at when the opportunity arose. He found himself breathless at every turn, body warming immensely, and his face as red as a tomato. Hanzo finally brought their lips together once more, firm, chaste. Their facial hair ground together, but they both ignored it, too focused on each other.

“Darl, I haven’ta clue what the hell that means.” Jesse spoke almost in a while before letting out a small chuckle between the slow kisses. His voice was deep and breathless, like dripping honey as he spoke to the samurai.

Hanzo’s fingers dipped around to trace against Jesse’s back, feeling muscles twitch under his touch and reveling in the little hums and soft breaths he could hear from his cowboy. He didn’t respond, knowing the man would argue. He could tell whenever he said stuff like that, so he didn’t translate. He was a man of action over words, deepening the soothing kisses and all but massaging his fingers into lax muscles, tugging a quiet grunt from Jesse. Jesse remembered their first kiss and, seriously, it was during a time when Hanzo found himself in a similar mental state. (Color Jesse pretty god damn surprised.)

_[Jesse trailed into the lounge area of the watchpoint with his eyes half lidded and his everything at least slightly crooked. He was tired as all held with about an hour of sleep under his belt and a restlessness that could go on for days. The dark circles beneath those brown eyes could more than attest to that. He yawned, jaw wide hanging wide open and his flesh hand lifting to rub his right eyes free of sleep._

_He expected no one to be awake just then, as it was about 6 in the morning and who in their right mind would be up at 6 a.m.? Well, apparently Hanzo Shimada, who currently stood at the stove, obviously making tea from the smell. His adept hands drifted over the ingredients, slow, meticulous, though careful and at ease. Jesse hesitated in the doorway to the area, eyes trailing along the man’s form._

_This was probably the first time he had seen the guy in anything other than traditional Japanese garments and his kyudo-gi. His usual choice was exchanged for a pair of pajama pants and a tank top that revealed just enough of those fine lines of taught muscles to have Jesse drooling. It made it even better that Hanzo’s hair was down, falling to his shoulders in an inky black curtain, messy, unruly, and pretty god damn perfect._

_Sure, the duo hadn’t been dating for long, only a month or two, but he could consider the guy perfect if he wanted. Especially in moments like this, where he could find himself admiring this asshole. He was gorgeous too, so that was a bonus. Jesse smiled slightly, morning perking up a little bit as he took notice of the other. He was smitten, no other way to say it. Sure, there were still times when the two wanted to tear each other’s heads off, but for now…_

_McCree found himself just enjoying the moment in the early morning where he could, if only for a moment, just admire. He had moments where he could look, take glimpses at, watch Hanzo through a look of admiration and some other emotion he couldn’t quite place, but now he could do it openly without a worry of Hanzo freaking out when someone caught him staring so intently at the Japanese man._

_After a long moment, Jesse finally broke away from the doorway and made his way toward the man. He himself wasn’t in his usual clothes either, in nothing more than a pair of sweatpants, socks, and the ever-present hat he preferred to keep atop his head. He attempted to keep his footsteps quiet, inaudible, something he didn’t remember really practicing since his Blackwatch days, but it seemed old habits really did die hard as he approached the unsuspecting man. When just behind him, Jesse slipped his arms around Hanzo’s waist, feeling his muscles tense under the sudden touch, though he seemed to relax as the familiar smell of old cigarillo smoke and gunpowder drifted through his senses._

_“Mornin’ sugar.” Jesse said with a small hum, voice deep and sleepy and enough to send a small shiver down Hanzo’s spine._

_“McCree.” Hanzo spoke in greeting, leaving his tea on the counter in favor of twisting around to face Jesse. He was caught off-guard by the sudden greeting, but was welcome to it as there was no one in the room with them to cast their prying eyes upon the duo. Absently, Jesse brushed some hair from Hanzo’s face, fingers trailing against his warm cheek and curling as the pressed the strands behind his ear. “I was not aware you woke up this early.” He added after a moment, reaching his own hands up, hesitant and careful as he rested them on Jesse’s chest._

_Jesse snorted in reply, enjoying the fact that Hanzo was finally allowing himself to touch for once as opposed to his usual restraint possibly way too much. “Nah, I ain’t ever up this early, Han. Couldn’ sleep for the life’a me. Guess my inner rooster is messin’ with me, yeah?” He murmured, his accent a little thicker with the sleep that laced within it. He leaned forward, pressing a lazy little kiss to a pale forehead. Hanzo let out a low, rumbling chuckle that spread through Jesse in waves._

_Usually those laughs were at his expense, but for once they were for nothing more than the absurdity of his similes in the morning. Sleep deprivation did that to him._

_“Hm…” Hanzo didn’t respond to his statement for a long moment, a single hand brought to cup Jesse’s jaw, firm and gentle, though ever so slightly hesitant. Jesse grinned a little wider with that, his own hand resting over Hanzo’s to keep it there. He knew, if allowed, Hanzo would remove his hand and Jesse sincerely wanted to keep it there for a little bit longer. Hanzo’s eyes were unreadable, withdrawn as per usual, enigmatic as they peered over Jesse’s skin. “You should attempt to get more sleep. Coffee will help you none, cowboy.” Hanzo said after a long moment of silence, a thumb brushing against the corner of McCree’s lips. They twitched at the little brush, drifting upward into an even wider smile._

_“Yeah, well, don’ think ‘m gonna get much more sleep, sug.” Jesse said with a low hum, twisting his head to press a small kiss to Hanzo’s palm. They were still stuck in the lovey dovey stage so far, but as he watched that pale pink brush dust over those high cheekbones, he couldn’t discover a fault in that. Hanzo stayed silent for a long moment, collecting his voice so it wouldn’t break or something equally embarrassing. “But, ya know, wouldn’ be opposed to goin’ if you’d join me…” Jesse offered, trailing off and lazily bumping their noses together._

_Hanzo couldn’t help the small twitch of his lips that formed, a barely there smile as he shook his head at the cowboy._

_“_ _Watashi wa sono kachi wanai, cowboy.” Hanzo murmured, his tone quiet, gentle, and warm in a way that knocked Jesse on his ass in surprise. (Figuratively, not literally.) Hanzo’s eyes were calm, giving the man a look that tore him to pieces, sent his heart all aflutter and his mouth dry._

_He held this look in his eye, cautious yet the look of a man on death row, resigned. Hanzo drifted closer, hand sliding down the side of Jesse’s neck, tracing the skin there slowly, carefully, hesitant as if he shouldn’t, but couldn’t stop himself. Jesse found himself paralyzed, staring into those eyes that pierced his and slowly unraveled him as the seconds ticked past. It shouldn’t be affecting him this much, Hanzo as a whole. Hanzo should not be making him act like a school girl after her crush, but the weakness in his legs and the warmth that spread from those gentle, slow caresses._

_“Go to bed, Jesse.” Hanzo said, back to English and adding icing to the cake with the use of Jesse’s actual name. (If that didn’t sound like music coming from him…)_

_Jesse shivered slightly, taking in a slow breath of air. “That a no?” His voice was quiet, slow. He knew the answer to that question before he even asked it, but he wanted to stay a little bit longer, in this moment where Hanzo wasn’t closing himself off. He wanted to enjoy it. He needed to enjoy it._

_And there goes the breathtaking little smile that once again shoved Jesse onto his ass. “That is a no.” Hanzo confirmed, closing his eyes for a long moment. He took in a deep breath once more, gaining his calm and restraint once more._

_Jesse scrambled to stop him as the man shifted, hands slowly shifting away from Jesse. No, shit. Come on, Hanzo. You’re killing the man. Don’t-... Jesse tightened his grip on the hand that was still at his cheek, his metallic arm holding his waist firmly to keep him there. Panic raced through him and he did the first thing he could think of, the first thing that he hoped would keep Hanzo from drifting away and closing himself up once again._

_Jesse kissed him._

_Hanzo was completely caught off guard, eyes incrementally wider and his body frozen as Jesse slid his lips against his own, chaste and completely still, moving only slightly in a slow kiss. Knowing that Hanzo wasn’t usually the type to be okay with anything affectionate in public that was more than a few passing touches or holding hands, he expected Hanzo to pull back immediately. He waited for it, enjoying how their lips melded together and pressed while it lasted. He felt Hanzo shift after a moment, waiting for the push. But, it never came._

_Much to Jesse’s relief and surprise, Hanzo was pressing back, mouth sliding and moving into Jesse’s own. He was still hesitant, pausing in a way that told Jesse he was doing so due to thinking too much. His arm tightened around Hanzo’s waist, pulling him closer while his free hand slipped from the hand that rested on his cheek so he could cup the side of Hanzo’s neck. Heat spread through his body in waves, the smell of tea, mint, and something herbal intoxicating to him and the addicting taste of Hanzo imprinted within his mind._

_He found he really wanted nothing more than to pin Hanzo to the counter and taste every inch of his skin, get to know his tattoo all personal-like._

_Sadly, Jesse wasn’t granted that opportunity as Hanzo finally forced himself back. His lips parted in soft breaths, eyes flickering between McCree’s own and his lips. Jesse moved to kiss the man once more, but was stopped by Hanzo twisting his head. His lips landed on his cheek and Jesse grimaced slightly, a playful little whine muffling against Hanzo’s skin._

_“Jesse.” Hanzo said firmly, voice low and breathy in a way that went straight to Jesse’s lower half, but he held it in in favor of looking the other in the eye once again. Had he done something wrong? Jesse clenched his jaw, knowing that was probably kinda sudden, but… “Now is… not the time.” Hanzo said, struggling to find the correct words, though his eyes said so much more, dark and swirling with a spark of want. He wanted to kiss McCree, but he couldn’t find it in himself to allow the pleasure. That realization allowed Jesse a little bit of relief. “Go to bed, you odd fool.” He said once again, breathing out a quiet sigh.]_

Jesse deepened the kiss a little bit more, Hanzo finally taking a second to twist their bodies, hovering over Jesse with their legs still in a tangled mess. He pressed most of his weight onto his palms resting on either side of Jesse on the bed. He broke the kiss for a moment, smirking down at the man. Jesse smiled up at the other, bringing a hand to the small of his back and not even hesitating as he rested his flesh hand on Hanzo’s bare ass. He sighed contentedly.

“You cannot keep your hands to yourself, Jesse McCree.” Hanzo deadpanned, though he wasn’t complaining. He wasn’t much different, trailing calloused fingers down to Jesse’s bare hip, slowly pressing into that skin while his other slid tantalizingly against his thigh.

“Ya say that like ya don’ love it.” Jesse retorted, leaning up in the bed that little bit to drag their lips together. Their naked bodies were warm, open, and neither were embarrassed by the situation. How could they be after how many times they had been so close in a much more intimate way? It was damn near absurd to think they could be. “Besides, can’t help it when yer lookin’ this great.” Jesse added, eyeing the fresh marks that riddled his pale neck. He leaned down, mouth pressing against them, tongue flicking out to touch bruised skin.

Hanzo sighed softly, twisting his head so he could murmur low in the other’s ear, tone light and teasing. “After last night, I assumed you were sated.” He said with a scoff, nipping at the shell of his ear with sharp canines. Jesse’s breath caught, surprised as Hanzo dug his fingers right beneath his shoulder blades and dragging a shudder out of him as the sensitive skin was attacked.

“Keep that up and there’s no tellin’.” Jesse said with a smirk, mischief twinkling in those warm eyes. Hanzo gave him an exasperated look, as if he didn’t mean to do what he had. (Sneaky little dragon.) Hanzo flashed his teeth in a half smile, revealing sharpened canines and an amused look in his eyes.

The man leaned closer, pressing a light kiss to the underside of Jesse’s jaw before he said anything.

“You act like I would stop due to that.” He murmured, sinking against the man.

“And yer actin’ like I would wantcha to stop.”

**Author's Note:**

> Translations: (According to Google Translate. Tell me anyway I can fix anything if I need to please!)  
> 1) Watashi wa kore o yurusa rerubekide wanai.- I should not be allowed  
> 2) Watashi go anata sūnai shite mo, sore dakede we fujūbundesu.- Even if I worship you, that alone is not enough.  
> 3) Watashi wa sono kachi wanai, cowboy.- I do not deserve it, cowboy.
> 
> Oh, and hijo de puta means, "Son of a bitch/whore/etc."


End file.
